Fears Realized
by Trekkie Lizard
Summary: A soft wind blew across the orange tinted sky, carrying along the sound of panting in exasperation. The soft pitterpatter of rain upon pavement was met with the rhythmic thuds of heavy cowboy boots jogging, running. SAM, DEAN, and OC.
1. Awakening, or Not

**_A/N: _**Like whoa. I wanted to write a Supernatural fanfic for my lovely old friends, and this is what suddenly started flowing from my fingers. Again I say, like whoa. Remember, I don't own anyone – except my lovely character that will be mentioned later. isn't revealing anything until you actually read it Also, I have this character in another story that I wrote out by hand, and am in the process of typing. This one is more of a prelude, I think, to that one. Who knows right now? shrug So, sit back, relax, and enjoy. Don't forget to R&R plz!! hugs everyone Oh, and this was inspired by "Bones" by Little Big Town. Yeah, just thought you'd like to know. shrug And spoiler alert for Season Two, just in case. Well, definitely for the first episode.

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_A soft wind blew across the orange tinted sky, carrying along the sound of panting in exasperation. The soft pitter-patter of rain upon pavement was met with the rhythmic thuds of heavy cowboy boots jogging, running. There was something amiss in the air, something wrong. Panicked inhalations of the autumn air burned down a dry throat in terror and yet something more. Hope. Hope that if this frightened being could possibly make it back to the safe walls of the cabin just up the old road, that they'd be saved of whatever horror lay behind, chasing forever more. The patterned claps against the pavement sped up in wanting. Wanting of safety. _

The constant beeping of an alarm clock filled the stuffy morning air in an old, smelly cabin. A feminine hand reached out and hit the snooze button again to shut the black metallic contraption off. Rolling, she reached over and unplugged it from the outlet on the wall beside the bed. Blue toenails escaped the disheveled plaid covers that were gathered at the foot of the bed and no longer tucked into their separate corners of the mattress. Soft sounds of a song echoed through the cabin as she turned on a radio and slowly cranked up the music, hoping not to wake anyone else but herself up. Her other houseguests should wake up soon, but that was another matter.

_**What goes around, comes around**_

_**Feel it breathin' down, heavy on you**_

Covers piled up at the end of a thin mattress let anyone know how unkempt this man normally was, especially in his sleep. The blue plaid boxer shorts – which had been a gift – were almost half pulled down from his night of happy dreams. He always had the best dreams, but none of them came true. Not like they did for his best friend. His brother. For a moment, the older man thought he had heard an alarm clock buzzing in the background, but had figured it wasn't for him since his hunting partner hadn't started yelling at him to get out of bed. That meant more sleep for him, right? So, he turned back over, his hand clutching what was left of the covers.

_A phone rang softly, muffled by the thick jean pocket it had been stuffed into. No one moved to answer it, though. Fire crackled in the corner of the room, inside of the old brick fireplace that was built with this cabin to keep its occupants warm during winter and whenever else they may need it. There was a rusty metal poker sticking halfway out of the fireplace itself, and heavy pacing shook the dust on the refurbished hardwood floor. A chair, perhaps, had been moved to the center of this room, and someone was sitting upon it. Tied to it. _

_**You made that bed you're layin' in, **_

_**Deeds that you have done, now you can't undo**_

In the next bed over, the covers were almost equally undone. But, the man inside the bed didn't seem to be having as pleasant a sleep as the older man in the first bed, nor as the grumpy woman in the other room. No, he was tossing and turning in bed constantly, having what seemed like fits in his obviously restless sleep. Unseen where flashes in his head of things to come, of future evils coming to walk the earth. But this time it was different. There were more recognizable figures. And he was outwardly sound asleep – aside from his crazed tossing and turning and inaudible ramblings of things to come. The things he saw were coming – sooner rather than later – and he had to stop them. But, the tall figure couldn't shake himself awake. Not until the vision had finally played out in his head.

_Hardened, joyless laughter echoed across the room, bouncing off of the olden wood beams and coming back to its source. Now he stepped from his shrouded cloud of shadow that had hidden him for so long, and stopped pacing. Mind games had never been this mans calling in life. But something had taken control over his body. He was no longer himself, no longer to be trusted by anyone – his family included. Well, his only living family, that is. Only two of them survived the past twenty-three years of running, pain. Now half of the equation was possessed – not himself. The tall figure with shaggy brown hair laughed more as he bent down for the iron handle of the protrusion from the fireplace. It was almost time to begin. _

_**You've got bones in your closet, **_

_**You've got ghosts in your town**_


	2. Just the Wind

A wrinkled pair of jeans flew across the room as the slender feminine figure had now moved herself towards a duffle bag to find something to wear. Hardly a week in this cabin, and she was already agitated beyond reason. Her friends were here with her, and apparently weren't that interested in research in the surrounding woods so early in the morning. Brown hues darted to look out the window quickly as she had thought she heard something, but it was nothing again, just the wind brushing that stupid tree limb against her window. She was going to break that thing off today. Finally, dark brown hair disappeared up inside of a tight blue shirt with long sleeves. Sparkly blue fingernails managed their way to the opening at the end of the sleeves and the hair soon reappeared in the head opening.

Tugging it down firmly across her shoulders, she moved towards the jeans that had been tossed onto her now made bed. There were still no sounds in the rest of the cabin, which meant her other two houseguests hadn't managed to arise from bed yet. Either that or they were actually trying to be quiet and stealthy. Nah, it was probably the first option, knowing them like she did. They had been friends for a while. Since she went to finish her graduate degree at Stanford University and met a tall, handsome guy she promptly hooked up with her extremely hot best friend. The fiery brunette herself was too old for him, anyway. Besides, she had met his brother. Hmm, and he was hotter.

_Footsteps slowed at the sight of the five or six steps leading to the half-open door that hung loosely from its hinges at the front of the cabin. Was something already there? Loose brunette hair spun quickly as the woman looked back behind her, her breath catching in her throat. There was something bad going on here. Something outside with her. Something inside with her boyfriend. It was wrong. It was all so completely wrong. Why had they come out to the woods in the first place? To get themselves killed? No, just to look into some rumors. Rumors! And now they were in this mess!? Where was the younger brother? Where was the older, for that matter? Was he really inside? Where they in trouble, too? _

_**Ain't no doubt, yeah, they're gonna come out, **_

_**They're waitin' for the sun to go down**_

The slightly shorter man's hand had finally relaxed and the rest of the blanket fluttered down to the floor. There was a pounding in his head, and he thought it was a hangover. That was until he remember he hadn't had anything to drink the night before except milk. What was it, then? Oh, just the door. Rolling off of his bed and haphazardly landing on his feet, the older brother yanked his boxers up some and opened the door with his free hand and a half smile. "Morning, gorgeous," he greeted the brunette woman who had immediately pushed past him, seeing the younger brother over his shoulder.

"Fine, don't say hi," the muscled man huffed, turning slowly on his heel to watch her fine … attributes … retreat from him. But then his expression changed from content and pleasure to worry. Oh, crap. Why hadn't he seen it before opening the door? Why hadn't he heard the mumbled ramblings when he was already half awake? His younger brother was in the throws of one of those stupid visions. He hated seeing the taller, intelligent man like that. In sheer agony. Dean wished all the time that he could make them stop. Take them from him. Something. Anything.

"_Sam, no," the raspy voice chocked out as the tall man pulled the long poker from the hot fire, "this isn't you." The person in the chair looked up, a certain fear in his eyes. He had been afraid that his enemy would try something like this. Like taking over control of his brother's body. Was this all a complete scare tactic? But what would be the point? Scaring the older man to death? Or actually killing him? He didn't particularly like either option, and neither did his heart, as it pounded away in his chest. This day had started out so simple and relaxing. So … normal. Of course he should've seen something coming. But not something like this. _

_**You can't hide from your demons, **_

_**Feel 'em all lurkin' around**_

He turned again, not realizing the four eyes staring down at him; the two figures knelt beside him, holding him. All he knew was the vision. Of things to come. Horrible things. And then young Sam saw himself in his vision. Laughing. Holding a hot poker and toying with it. But it wasn't him. Not really. There was something wrong there. As two voices screamed in his head at the same time, Sam Winchester was jerked to consciousness and awoke to find himself wrapped in those people's arms. He pushed himself away from them.

"No, don't touch me," the half asleep voice almost whimpered, forcing himself to a sitting position to hold his head and lean into the bare wall behind his naked back. It was cold enough to snap him to reality. For Sam to realize that it had all been a dream. A horrible, vividly realistic dream that he knew would come true unless they stopped it. Together. "We have to stop it," he mumbled, almost pulling his hair out from the horrible migraine that had started brewing. "…stop me."

_A new figure had appeared and paused in the open doorway, confused. "Please, do come in," the strange voice urged. It wasn't Sam's voice. It was, but it was tinted with evil and hatred. Echoes of the thing that was possessing him, making him do things he would never even dream of doing. Except he had dreamed of it. Before. And now there was nothing to stop him. No one to get in his way. Because he had taken care of their human weapons, locked them away in the cars outside. With strong telekinesis, Sam forced the figure to come into the building, and the wind seemingly slammed the door shut behind her. Water fell from her hair and onto the floor. _

_The taller man turned and walked over towards her, toying with the hot metal threateningly, "Go sit down. I have to deal with my brother for a moment." She was scared, and managed to walk over to another chair, that had been moved to face the first. Sitting on it like she was told, the woman squinted her brown eyes at the metal rod in her best friend's hand, hoping to get it away from him. "Your powers won't work on me."_

"_He's not your brother," she bit back tears, "you're not my friend." This couldn't be happening, could it? _

_**You're runnin' scared, 'cause you know they're out there, **_

_**They're waitin' for the sun to go down**_


End file.
